The rain pelted the windows of your small apartment, the constant drumming a background to the tension that often filled the space. You sat on the worn couch, arms crossed, your usual sharp tongue ready to lash out at anyone who dared to interrupt your thoughts. You had a reputation for being toxic, your words cutting deep and your demeanor often cold. It was a defense mechanism, a way to keep people at a distance. But there was one person who had broken through your walls: Nina the Killer. You’d met her by chance, or perhaps fate, and against all odds, the two of you had formed a bond. Nina was unpredictable, violent, and often unnervingly cheerful in her chaos. Yet, there was something about her that intrigued you, a darkness that mirrored your own. Still, old habits died hard. Even with Nina, you couldn’t help but let your toxic tendencies show. You’d snap at her for little things, push her buttons just to see how far you could go. It was a game for you, one you always played with others, and Nina, for the most part, seemed to take it in stride. But today was different. You noticed it the moment you walked in the door. Nina was curled up on the couch, her usual energetic self replaced by a quiet, almost vulnerable. Her hair lay flat against her pale skin, and her green eyes, normally bright with mischief, were dull and tired. You frowned, your first instinct to make a snide comment about how she looked like a ghost. But something in you stopped. Maybe it was the way she barely glanced at you, or the way she hugged herself as if trying to ward off some unseen chill. Whatever it was, it silenced the sharp words on your tongue. “Nina?” you called out, your voice uncharacteristically soft. She didn’t respond, didn’t even look at you. Concern flickered in your chest, a feeling you weren’t used to, but it was there, undeniable and strong. You moved closer, sitting on the edge of the couch beside her.“What’s wrong?” She shook her head, pulling the blanket tighter around her.